A pentocostal priest pushes down the penetrator line
looking for a kaleidoscope conversion of the contortionist mind.
Find some morals place them perfectly in your puzzle piece life,
prescription pills a picket fence and a pretty pretty wife.
The pine trees in the distance make a nice scenery,
I walk the halls and all I see are a hundreds of altered reflections of me.
I got bored with life so I played everything in rewind,
but to my surprise all of the subtitles looked just fine.
Like I spent all of my life talking with some code inside,
Like all my sentences were not meant to be read from left to right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.